


reckless serenade

by thepolourryexpress



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bottom Louis, F/F, Fingering, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gender or Sex Swap, Girl Direction, Humor, Top Harry, all the other boys are boys sorry, cisgirl!Harry, cisgirl!Louis, girl!Harry, girl!Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:35:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29293002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepolourryexpress/pseuds/thepolourryexpress
Summary: Harry’s not too sure how she’s gotten to this point either. So, she understands where the incredulous look on Liam’s face is coming from.“You mean to tell me you’ve been dating Louis for three years and she doesn’t know it?” Liam raises an eyebrow, blinking.Or, Harry's Google search history may or may not look like 'my girlfriend doesn't know we're dating.'
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 49
Kudos: 222





	reckless serenade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [harriblou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/harriblou/gifts).



> hiiii celeste !! hehe surprise :D happy valentine's day lovie!!! i loved being your secret admirer and i hope my daily messages brought at least a little bit of happiness to your day!!! i loved getting to know you over the past 14 days :') i hope you enjoy this!! <3
> 
> big thank you to mads @piccadillyplum for being an angel and making a wonderful moodboard :D
> 
> unimportant (but also very important), girl!harry totally has a mullet/70s shag and girl!louis has bangs <3
> 
> title is from reckless serenade by arctic monkeys

☙ ☙ ☙

Harry’s not too sure how she’s gotten to this point either. So, she understands where the incredulous look on Liam’s face is coming from. 

“You mean to tell me you’ve been dating Louis for three years and she doesn’t know it?” Liam raises an eyebrow, blinking. 

Harry sighs and glares at him. “It hasn’t been _three_ years.” She likes to think she’d have a much better handle on things if they’d been ‘dating’ for three years. _Thank you, Liam,_ she thinks. 

It hasn’t been three years of _dating_. It’s been three years of pining over Louis, two years of actually _doing_ something about it, and a year of, well, _almost dating_ Louis. A year of spending almost every waking hour with Louis, a year of kissing in between whispers and giggles, and a year of Louis pinned underneath her and crying from her strap-on. 

She prides herself quite a bit on that last one. 

Nevertheless, it took Harry quite a bit to reach this point, too. It started off as just a silly infatuation with the small girl who sat front row in their shared sophomore physics lecture. If Harry’s being completely honest, her crush most definitely served as a catalyst for her terrible physics grade that semester. 

The universe must’ve had something planned for her death after she ended the semester with a C- and had to retake the course the following semester though, because after realizing that Harry desperately needed to get her butt to office hours to save her GPA, it was that very same semester that Ms. Louis Tomlinson was serving as one of the undergraduate teaching assistants. 

And if Harry’s physics grade wasn’t fucked already. 

She couldn’t even focus on physics when Louis was sitting rows and rows ahead of her. To make her situation even more pathetic, in that whole semester she had only interacted with Louis _once_. 

(Louis had smiled and thanked her when Harry had held the door open for her after class.)

Fortunately enough for Harry, Louis was as great of a tutor as she was unwittingly distracting, so she luckily ended the semester with an A-, a much better understanding of physics, and an even more unbearable crush on the pretty physics TA.

You win some, you lose some, Harry supposes. 

As if things couldn’t get worse for Harry, _then_ there was the issue with _Zayn_. 

Somehow Louis wasn’t put off by Harry’s terrible physics skills and actually enjoyed her company in office hours enough to answer positively to Harry’s text that following semester asking if she wanted to get lunch together sometime and catch up. Somehow along the way they actually became _friends_ , and Harry has to admit that it didn’t make her crush any less overwhelming. They ate lunch together almost twice a week in between Harry’s economics class and Louis’ quantum mechanics class, Harry ended up on Louis’ close friends list on Instagram, and they were at a ‘texting everyday’ stage. 

Just when Harry was considering taking a shot in the dark and asking the girl out, _Zayn_ started popping out of nowhere. On Louis’ Instagram story, in between classes, _everywhere_. 

Even Harry’s _nightmares_. 

Of course, Harry was nothing less than dramatic and convinced herself that the two were dating. Zayn’s hands _always_ found their way to Louis’ waist, Louis was nothing but smiles and laughs around him, and, well, Zayn was just as gorgeous as Louis was. Of course Louis was going to date someone on her level. And _of course_ Louis was straight. 

It wasn’t until after deep Instagram stalking and a bribe to Niall to dig around (because God help her if she actually asked Louis herself), that Zayn was actually dating Gigi Hadid in the year above them _and_ in a picture from two years ago on Louis’ Instagram, there was a little lesbian pride flag sticker on the mirror in what Harry assumed to be Louis’ bedroom. 

Considering how many times she’s complained about people assuming she and Liam are dating and how guys and girls _can_ most certainly just be friends, Harry was a little embarrassed about her assumptions. 

In her defense, if she wasn’t completely repulsed at the idea of interacting with an actual cock, she’d take a second glance at Zayn, too. So, her assumptions couldn’t be _that_ far off. 

Nevertheless, she still wasn’t a fan of Zayn. 

It was the first party of junior year that Harry finally found herself toe-ing along the path of being something more. 

To Harry’s surprise, it was Louis who made the first move that night. Likely fueled from one too many beers, Louis had ended up leaning up and kissing Harry outside of her dorm room. What was likely supposed to be a sweet and thoughtless kiss ended up snowballing into Louis pliant and spread out underneath her on Louis’ XL twin-sized bed.

Waking up in her hungover haze the next morning, it was Louis’ familiar mirror sticker that kept Harry from making a run for it before Louis woke up. 

Harry still can’t wrap her head around what happened that night but considering it led to having Louis in her bed almost every other night since then, she’s certainly not complaining. How could she complain when she has Louis riding her face on an almost daily basis?

The thing is, even if only subconsciously, Harry knows that this isn’t some sort of friends-with-benefits type deal. There’s something more even if neither of them have had a conversation about it. There’s something that’s a little more than _just platonic_ about spending half of her Friday nights going down on Louis and the other half in Harry’s tiny apartment bathtub because Harry just _has_ to experience the new bath bomb Louis’ picked up the week prior. 

So, now they’re _here_. Or, more specifically, Harry’s _here_ , wondering how the hell sex became platonic. 

She’s suffering to say the very least. 

“It’s not like this is _new_ between you two. What’d you even do for last Valentine’s day?”

Harry smirks absently at the memory. It was a good Valentine’s day even if they didn’t explicitly celebrate the holiday. “Well, Zayn had his gallery exhibit, remember? I went with Louis. And then afterwards, we went back to mine, I ordered takeout, we watched _Howl’s Moving Castle_ , and _then_ I took out my–”

Liam glares at her, waving his hand. “I don’t need to know that last bit,” he grumbles, and Harry rolls her eyes. As if she wants to share details of how Louis looks underneath her. She’s gotten this far, and as far as she’s aware, Louis isn’t sleeping with anyone else, so. She’s not about to get any ideas into people’s heads, not even Liam’s. 

“I’m honestly not too sure how both of you don’t know you’re already dating,” Liam continues with a confused frown. “Why didn’t you just ask her out in the first place?” 

Harry could roll her eyes. 

She does.

“You don’t _get_ it. I didn’t know if she was straight! I could’ve embarrassed myself,” Harry huffs. On top of that, Louis _was_ her TA in the beginning and she’s almost certain there are rules against dating the people in charge of her grades. 

Liam blinks. “She’s been taking your strap or whatever. Pretty sure she’s not straight.”

She huffs, glaring at her best friend. “Well, I know that _now_!”

“And you knew that the first time you guys slept together! It’s been, what? A year? You could’ve asked after the first few times!” Liam argues, narrowing his eyes. 

“I still don’t know if she likes me like _that_!” Harry whines, leaning across the table in frustration, wild curls falling in front of her face. 

Liam rolls his eyes. “I think you should just ask her out, H.” 

Looking down at her phone, she sighs. Twenty hours to Valentine’s Day and she has no plans further than Louis coming over at eight and a cheap bottle of rosé. And the best piece of advice Liam can give her is ‘ _just ask her out, bro_.’

She hates men.

“Men are useless,” she complains in a grumble. “ _This_ is why you don’t have a girlfriend.”

Liam grins. “Can’t say you’re doing any better than I am.”

Harry hits him. 

☙ ☙ ☙

“What’s all this?” Louis grins when she steps into Harry’s apartment the next night. 

It’s a reasonable question, Harry thinks. In the middle of her floor, there’s a cliché pink and white checkered picnic blanket, an even more cliché heart-shaped box of assorted chocolates, and a cheap bottle of rosé surrounded by a pair of empty wine glasses. Littered around the apartment are an absurd amount of lit candles to enhance the mood already brought by her warm fairy lights (ones that Louis _insisted_ she buy earlier in the year), red rose petals scattered around the floor, and soft music (a playlist consisting of Mitski, girl in red, and Clairo for added effect) playing in the background. 

So, she’s trying for obvious.

Harry can only pray that her twenty-plus Google searches of ‘ _how to make it obvious you’re dating_ ,’ ‘ _how to ask your girlfriend out for real_ ,’ ‘ _my girlfriend doesn’t know we’re dating_ ,’ ‘ _what if my girlfriend doesn’t like me_ ,’ and ‘ _how to get over someone you never dated_ ’ are more helpful than Liam’s advice. What do guys know that Google doesn’t anyway?

“Valentine’s Day,” Harry shrugs sheepishly, a lop-sided smile on her face. 

Louis laughs, cheeks pink as looks around the room, taking a tentative step towards the picnic blanket. “I thought we both agreed that Valentine’s Day was a capitalist scam?” She raises a teasing eyebrow. She looks gorgeous as ever, Harry notes right away, dressed in a cream bodice top, a pink and _lovely_ fitted mini-skirt, and her usual black platform Dr. Martens outlined with ruffled cream socks. Ironically, dangling from her ears are a pair of pink and white clay heart earrings Harry can only assume Louis made for this very holiday. 

It’s a stark yet _cute_ contrast to Harry’s flowy red blouse tucked into the waistband of her black jeans and belt, silver rings littered over her fingers and silver cross pendant laying just above her breasts, and black Chelsea boots on her feet. She had stood in front of her bedroom mirror for close to a half-hour trying to decide if her look was too obvious or not obvious enough for a romantic date. 

Key word: _romantic_. 

Harry rolls her eyes at Louis’ words, shaking her head. “A girl gives you an indoor picnic and your first reaction is to accuse her of being a capitalist?”

“It was just a question,” Louis smiles innocently, blue eyes crinkling before her gaze falls once again on the picnic blanket and her lips part in curiosity. Harry wants to kiss her. “Are those chocolate covered strawberries?” She asks before excitedly plopping herself down on the blanket, leaving Harry alone by the doorway.

Harry just grins dumbly to herself as she shuts her front door, shaking a hand through her hair. She takes a glance at her reflection in the mirror next to the doorway, letting out a slow breath.

She can do this. 

☙ ☙ ☙

Harry’s up to two glasses of rosé when she realizes that she _can’t_ do this. 

She’s only slightly tipsy and unfortunately still very conscious of her own thoughts. There's no real reason for her hesitance – she knows she’s being ridiculous. 

There’s no way she should be this nervous about asking Louis out. Over the course of a year, they’ve texted constantly, they’re almost always spending nights at each other’s places, and at this point, one of Harry’s favorite hobbies is spending hours with her mouth on Louis’ cunt. The rational side of her reasons she has a pretty good chance of having success when asking Louis out. Then, of course, there’s the irrational side of her that’s already convinced herself that starting tomorrow she’ll be listening to her sad unrequited love playlist featuring one too many Drake songs. 

As lovely as the night is going, Harry _knows_ Louis is catching onto her nervous tics. Harry’s trying hard not to notice herself, instead focusing on the way Louis’ lounging across the other end of the blanket, dainty and manicured fingers popping chocolate covered strawberries into her mouth with ease. Their shoes are haphazardly thrown to the side, it smells like vanilla and rose in the room, and Harry’s blouse is unbuttoned to the point that even she isn’t convinced her tits aren’t going to pop out of her shirt. With the way Louis’ eyes trail down to her chest and trail back upwards to meet Harry’s gaze with a little smirk every so often, though, Harry can’t be bothered to fix herself. 

“So, what’s this about?” Louis smiles after a moment of comfortable silence, blue eyes as warm as the candles surrounding them. 

In theory, Harry _could_ take the easy way out. She could shrug it off as just doing something nice, a friendly little celebration of Valentine’s Day between two friends. She could just say something flirty, get Louis flustered enough that she forgets all about the question and instead welcomes Harry’s mouth between her legs.

Then again, that’s just avoiding the issue that’s brought Harry to this point of desperation. 

“I told you,” Harry hums around the rim of her wine glass. “Something nice for Valentine’s Day.”

Louis raises an eyebrow, fixing her bangs on her forehead. “And I told you I thought we didn’t _like_ Valentine’s Day,” she accuses lightly, amused smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. 

“We’re circling back to this, are we?” Harry muses, placing her glass down near her side.

Louis giggles, rolling her eyes. “I’m not complaining. I’m just _curious_.”

Shaking her head, Harry leans back on her hands. “I don’t know. Like I said, I just thought it’d be nice,” she reasons, and because she’s had a good amount of wine, _word vomits_. “And, like. I’ve never had a proper Valentine’s Day date before, and I know we like to shit on the holiday and all that, but. I _dunno_. I thought it’d be nice, and I wanted to treat you, and I thought it’d be a nice date.”

Raising an eyebrow, Louis grins. “A date?”

Harry shrugs her shoulders and diverts her gaze to the floor, fingers toying with the edge of the picnic blanket. “Yeah,” she says, green eyes flickering up to glance at Louis briefly. “ _Yeah_ , I mean. I’d _like_ for it to be a date. I was hoping it was obvious it was a date, you know?”

Louis smiles, tilting her head, and Harry watches as the ends of her hair slip off of her shoulder with the movement, showcasing her neck. “As opposed to all of the not dates we’ve been on?” She asks. 

“Um,” Harry blinks, biting the inside of her cheek. “Yes?”

Louis stares at her a little funny, and Harry knows Louis well enough to recognize that she’s struggling to control her facial expression. The way her pink-stained lips twitch upwards hint at the idea that she’s trying to keep herself from laughing at Harry. And, well, that’s not very comforting. 

Finally, Louis schools her face into a more relaxed expression, one that’s a little more curious than amused. “We’re _not_ dating?”

“I– I don’t know?” Harry tries. That’s _the_ issue. 

At least they’re getting to the bottom of it, right?

“See, I thought we _were_ dating,” Louis hums lightly, shaking her head as she sets her own glass down. “But I guess I got it wrong.”

“ _No–_ I _want_ to be dating. That’s– what I was hoping for,” Harry runs a hand through her hair, leaning forward with a slightly hysterical laugh. “I _want_ to date you. I _want_ you to be my girlfriend. I was hoping this whole ‘date’ thing would make that obvious,” she laughs.

“Mm. Our first ever date, right?” Louis grins teasingly, arching an eyebrow. 

If Louis wasn’t so pretty, Harry would probably be a little less distracted and a little more offended. Harry rolls her eyes, letting out a huff. “I thought we were _friends_.”

“I don’t sleep with my _friends_ ,” Louis giggles.

“I don’t recall you _ever_ saying that,” Harry huffs.

“Well, I’m saying it now.”

Rolling her eyes, Harry leans forward and shakes her head for what feels like the millionth time. “That doesn’t help my situation,” she says, scooting closer to the girl. “In fact, it just proves my point.”

“Your absolutely ridiculous point.”

“Do you ever shut up?” Harry barks out a laugh, taking a hold of Louis’ chin with her hand. 

Louis grins, and their faces are inches apart now. Harry can see the pretty specks of green decorating her bright blue irises, can see the light crinkles at the corners of her eyes from how hard she’s smiling. The candles littered around her living room give Louis’ skin an even more golden glow, and Harry’s almost certain that she’s in love with this woman.

That’s for another day, though. 

“Sometimes,” Louis hums, tipping her head up to brush her lips against Harry’s. Her fingers come up to fiddle with the buttons on Harry’s silky blouse. “When you kiss me at least.”

Harry laughs, closing her eyes and instead of replying, she does just that. Louis’ lips are soft, she tastes like strawberries, and not to be completely dramatic, but Harry’s convinced this is what heaven feels like. Louis’ hand is resting gently on her neck, pliant and melting into Harry’s touch like she always does. Harry’s skin goes warm where Louis touches her, and she can’t help grin when she feels Louis smiling into the kiss first. 

“Told you I could be quiet,” Louis laughs after a few moments of kissing, sliding her fingers underneath the back of Harry’s shirt, dull fingernails gently scratching over the skin. 

“And if I don’t want you to be quiet anymore?” Harry hums, running a hand up Louis’ bare thigh. Louis’ breath hitches, and well, Harry can’t help but smirk at the reaction from such a simple touch. 

“Then you’re gonna have to work harder,” she teases, slipping her hands down to toy with Harry’s belt, wrestling it undone before she’s attempting to unbutton Harry’s jeans. Harry can’t help but laugh at the eagerness from the smaller girl, kissing over her neck before sliding a hand underneath Louis’ shirt. They must be on the same page, because Louis immediately drops the task of trying to get Harry’s pants undone, instead squirming underneath Harry and slipping her shirt off, tossing it carelessly to the side. She freezes, however, once she seems to be recalling that there are lit candles _everywhere_ , and lets out a nervous laugh as she peers in the direction of her discarded shirt. 

“You gonna start a fire or are you gonna let me fuck you?” Harry grins, biting over Louis’ jawline. Louis makes a noise cross between a laugh and a moan, fingers curling around Harry’s dangling necklace and attempting to pull her closer. 

“Shut up,” she huffs, letting go of the necklace. “Off, please,” Louis complains in her next breath, small hand attempting to slide the fabric of Harry’s blouse off of her shoulder. 

Harry happily complies, leaning back on her haunches to slip her blouse off, discarding it a little more carefully than Louis had. The last thing she needs is a fire to ruin their (arguably) first ever date. 

Pushing Louis’ back on the blanket, Harry finds herself fitting a thigh in between Louis’ legs as she hovers over her, yielding a quiet gasp escaping Louis’ lips. Louis’ hands immediately go to Harry’s neck, tugging her down closer for a kiss while one trails over Harry’s breast, thumb brushing over her nipple. Harry groans lightly at the feeling, bruising Louis’ lips with her own. 

She’s topless, belt haphazardly hanging from her hips and pants undone, by the time she’s hovering over Louis. It’s not very long before she’s got one hand wrapped around Louis’ delicate wrists, pinning them above her head and leaving her to Harry’s complete mercy while Louis peers up at her, chest heaving, blue eyes blown, and the top of her breasts flushed. 

Harry couldn’t wish for anything else. 

Louis grins up at her when she notices Harry’s gaze on her, fluttering her eyelashes and squirming underneath her teasingly as she ruts down against Harry’s clothed thigh. “C’mon,” she murmurs. Even through the rough fabric of her jeans and through Louis’ barely there knickers, she can feel how wet the girl is, can even feel the wetness against the skin of her _own_ thigh. 

There’s a part of Harry that just wants to watch Louis work for it and come apart from nothing but grinding herself on Harry’s thigh, wants her to come from nothing but the pressure of the seam of Harry’s jeans against her clit, but there’s also a larger part of Harry that’s almost certain she’ll go feral if she doesn’t properly touch Louis in the next few seconds. 

“You’re so perfect,” Harry groans, letting go of Louis’ wrists reluctantly and dragging her hand over Louis’ side before she’s slipping it underneath Louis’ skirt, rubbing the pad of her thumb lightly over her clit over the already soaked fabric of the girl’s underwear. Louis lets out a soft whine at the feeling, tipping her head back as her hips buck upwards slightly for more. 

Humming lightly against Louis’ collarbone, Harry drags her lips down to kiss over Louis’ breastbone, making her way over one of Louis’ breasts while at the same time replacing her thumb with two fingers, rubbing down harder and teasing the poor girl underneath her. 

“Please,” Louis breathes, and Harry just grins against her breast before she’s sucking lightly at the skin and finally slipping her fingers underneath the hem of Louis’ underwear. There’s a part of Harry that’s aching to rip off every piece of fabric on the smaller girl’s body, to bury her face in Louis’ cunt for the next few hours, to kiss over every inch of skin. But they’ve got the rest of the night for that, right?

Pressing down on Louis’ clit with her thumb, Harry drags her middle and ring fingers down to Louis’ opening and past her lips, groaning against her tit at just how wet the girl feels on her fingers. She teases her fingers over either side of the girl’s clit, content with the way Louis’ hips squirm in an attempt to get her fingers where she desperately wants them. As she moves over to mouth lightly over Louis’ nipple, Harry spreads the wetness around the girl’s cunt, just ghosting her fingers over Louis’ clit, before she’s pushing her fingers inside of her just deep enough that the cool band of Harry’s rings press against the flesh, losing herself in the hitch of Louis’ breath. 

Taking a glance up at Louis, Harry revels in the sight of Louis’ lower lip bitten between her teeth, eyebrows furrowed together at the feeling of Harry’s fingers inside of her. She can feel the way she’s clenching around Harry’s fingers, hips rocking in the slightest rhythm in an effort to get Harry to fuck her like she wants. But Harry takes her free hand to pin Louis’ hip still, pulling back to watch the way Louis tightens around her fingers. 

Harry fucks her fingers in and out slowly, aching to curl her fingers on every stroke. Louis’ _so_ wet, making the sweetest noises of pleasure and gasps underneath her, and Harry’s not even sure how she’s still breathing with how perfect Louis is. Dragging her fingers out of Louis, she teases them over the slick folds of Louis’ cunt, rubbing her clit in a teasing circle. Louis moans at that, and Harry takes a bit of pity on her, adding a few more moments of attention to the sensitive nerve.

It doesn’t last too long, though, because Harry’s pushing her fingers back inside of Louis without warning, eyes trained to where Louis is stretched around them. She eases herself into a somewhat steady rhythm, fucking the digits inside of her roughly as she listens to the high-pitched whimpers of Louis underneath her. With the way Harry’s free hand is pinning her hip to the floor, Louis’ given up on riding her fingers, instead just writhing against the blanket and taking whatever Harry chooses to give her. She’s perfect, Harry’s convinced, and she can’t help but to drag her thumb into play and rub deep circles over Louis’ clit as she continues to fuck her fingers in and out, applying pressue to Louis’ g-spot with every move. 

Louis’ coming apart now, Harry can tell by the way she’s gasping for breath and whimpering out pathetic little noises, breasts bouncing in the same rhythm as Harry’s fingers fuck into her. 

“H,” Louis whines, incomprehensible noises leaving her lips, thighs twitching and attempting to close together if not for Harry situated between them. There’s a beautiful blush on Louis’ cheeks, bangs stuck to her forehead, and hips squirming underneath Harry with every movement of Harry’s fingers inside of her. Her movements are erratic, and it’s no surprise to Harry when Louis gasps and comes, writhing underneath the woman and cunt throbbing uncontrollably. 

Even with the added restriction of Louis’ panties pushed to the side, Louis’ dripping down her hand, and Harry can’t even wrap her head around how perfect this woman is. Louis’ eyes are closed, head tipped back and panting as she catches her breath. As Harry trails her eyes down and up Louis’ now hitched up skirt, Harry’s fingers are soaked as she slips them out of Louis, Louis’ opening twitching as if she’s trying to keep them inside of her, and the fabric of her knickers are glistening. God. Harry wants nothing more than to get her mouth on her tonight. 

“Fuck, Lou,” Harry breathes, leaning down to press her lips to Louis’, unable to resist. Louis kisses her back gently, and Harry’s almost positive Louis’ not real. She pulls back with a soft laugh, just grinning dumbly down at Louis. 

“C’mon,” Louis giggles when she finally opens her eyes and catches Harry’s silly and enamored expression. Her cheeks are flushed pink and rose petals are stuck in her hair, but she’s peering up at Harry with an arguably dorky smile of her own, carding her fingers through Harry’s choppy curls. “You’ve got that pink strap-on. Let’s go make use of it. Pink for Valentine’s, you know?” 

Harry laughs, dropping her forehead down to rest against Louis’. “You’re ridiculous,” she grins, pressing her lips to Louis’ soft ones. 

“Maybe so, _girlfriend_ ,” Louis grins teasingly against Harry’s lips, and well, _fuck_. 

Harry’s going to make use of her pink strap-on. 

**Author's Note:**

> aaaa happy valentine's day again !!
> 
> first time (and maybe only time skfjsf) writing girl!hl so ... be nice D:
> 
> please leave a comment & kudos if you enjoyed <3


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